


If The Dark Returns

by StellaVesperis



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amras dies at Losgar, Angst, Canonical Character Death, First published fic, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, Not Beta Read, Post-Doriath, Sort Of, Yes I know that's the wrong twin, background Nimloth and Dior, bear with me, but idk what you were expecting it's the Silmarillion, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:15:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaVesperis/pseuds/StellaVesperis
Summary: In the aftermath of the Ruin of Doriath, Maedhros goes looking for Dior's missing sons.This goes slightly better than in canon.
Relationships: Amrod & Eluréd & Elurín (Tolkien), Eluréd & Elurín & Maedhros | Maitimo, Eluréd & Elurín (Tolkien)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36





	If The Dark Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! I've written lots of fics for the Silmarillion, but this is the first time I've published any of it. This is NOT Beta read, so please bear with me. If you catch any mistakes, please let me know! Thanks!

He didn’t want to think about it.   
  
He shoved all thoughts of his brothers’ whereabouts from his mind as he set out from Menegroth. _Yes,_ Maedhros told himself, _they’ve gotten lost in the halls. We’ve only been separated. The reason why Celegorm’s servants were the ones greeting us was that they were separated from their lord._

Not because Celegorm was dead.   
  
The cold was jarring, even to him, and the snow was coming down in white waves that drifted all too carelessly through the forest. _Tyelkormo wasn’t thinking clearly._ He wanted so desperately to believe that. Wanted to believe that he never meant for Lúthien’s grandchildren to be dragged out and abandoned in the woods. _He was not thinking clearly when he gave that order._ _  
_ _I’m going to kill him when I get back to Menegroth._ _  
_ _  
_ When. Not if. He _was_ going to find the silver-haired twins. He _was_ going to see them safe. And he _was_ going to have a very long discussion with Celegorm when he found him.   
_It’s not the children’s fault._ Maedhros believed that; he truly did. He was less certain that his Oath believed the same thing. _They were only children- they had nothing to do with their parents’ fight- nothing to do with our Silmaril-_

  
A gust of wind sent a sheet of snowflakes toward him, and Maedhros pulled his hood over his head to shield himself. Daylight had begun to torch the barren trees, but little aid did it offer as he scanned his surroundings. His breath crystallized in front of him; it was cold, so terribly cold, and the children weren’t entirely elvish- what if that meant they were weaker? What if they couldn’t withstand the cold?   
  
After an hour of fruitless searching, he decided to call their names. If they had seen him from a distance, they would have long fled, but now they might just be desperate enough to respond.   
  
“Eluréd!” The drifts of snow muffled his voice. “Elurín!”   
  
There was no response, of course- no, it couldn’t be expected at first.   
  
Maedhros alone ventured on, calling the names of the twins into the frigid forest.   
  


* * * 

_Cold. He was so cold._ _  
_ _  
_ Elurín clung to his brother the moment the servants threw them into the snow. “Eluréd,” he hissed, “Eluréd, wake up!” He shook his twin, whose blue eyes flickered open, a faint light gleaming within.   
  
Eluréd had tried to fight back. Tried to protect his brother. But it only took one hit from the hilt of a sword to knock him out.   
  
“Are they gone?” Eluréd whispered, trembling.   
  
Elurín glanced back, searching for any sign of their attackers. There were not even footprints in the snow. “Yes,” he decided, and helped his twin sit up.   
  
“Where are we?” Eluréd asked.   
  
They were in the woods- that much was obvious. Elurín studied his surroundings. They often explored the woods with Ada and Nana, but he’d been too frightened to pay attention to where they were when the servants had carried them away. All the trees looked the same and everything was so white and so cold and so similar and-   
  
“Somewhere close to home, I think,” he told his brother finally. “I don’t know where.”   
  
“It’s cold.” Eluréd clung to his twin for warmth. They were thinly grabbed, completely unprepared to be outside. “Where is Ada?”   
  
“I- I think he’s still in Menegroth.” Elurín swallowed, thinking of the ones who’d taken them. “I hope they don’t hurt him.”   
  
“Ada’s strong; he can fight them.” His twin’s voice was filled with conviction.   
  
“Who were they?” Elurín asked.

“I think they wanted Ada’s Jewel.”   
  
At the mention of the Jewel, despite the grim situation, a smile flickered across Elurín’s face. He’d seen his father wear it on occasion, and he could remember being entranced by it. He’d never seen anything as beautiful or glimmeringly perfect as that stone- it had a thousand facets, each cut with the light of a million stars.   
  
It was spectacular, of course. But he would much rather have his father Dior in front of him than a shiny rock. 

  
Eluréd started to fall back, and Elurín caught his twin before he could collapse into the snow. “Are you alright, Eluréd?”   
  
“My head hurts,” he said. His eyes appeared as though he were sleeping. “I feel dizzy.” He started to sniffle. “I want Ada and Nana and Elwing.”   
  
“We’re going to find them,” he assured him, trying to scan the woods for any indication of where home might be. 

  
A flash of red flickered amongst the barren trunks. Elurín gasped and pushed his twin down.   
  
“What’s wrong?” Eluréd whispered.   
  
“It’s one of them,” he breathed, daring to glance up to check the person’s location. “One of the bad elves.”   
  
Eluréd let out a whimper and his twin hastened to clamp his hand over his mouth. He watched the tall elf wander through the forest as he tried to calm his breathing. His hair was red like fire- he’d never seen anyone with that color before.   
  
He did not remove his hand from his brother’s mouth until the elf had gone out of sight. Eluréd’s breaths came out hastily, forming a great cloud of thin smoke about them.   
  
Elurín realized now that his brother’s clothes were drenched in the snow. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d shoved him down- only been trying to hide him- but now he’d only made him colder. He wrapped his arm around Eluréd, not caring that he was getting himself wet too.   
  
Eluréd was shivering terribly now. “I-I-It’s s-so c-c-c-cold,” he said through chattering teeth. “I-I- I wish w-we could b-b-build a fire.”   
  
Nimloth had taught them how to build a fire, but that was in the autumn months when there was plenty of dead, dry wood to go around, and not when they were trying to hide. If they built a fire, they might show the red elf where they were. They had to stay hidden, stay in one place. It was safer. And isn’t that what Ada had always told them to do if they were lost?   
  
“I’ll keep you warm,” Elurín said, holding him tight. “We’re going to be okay.” 

* * *

He called their names until his voice grew strained from the effort.   
There was no response, no response for several hours, and he finally decided to wind his way back to Menegroth. As much as he hated to believe it, there was a very good chance that the twins were gone by now.   
And Maedhros had lived in denial long enough. It was time to return and discover his brothers’ fates.   
  
He had retraced his steps almost back to the caves when he heard something shift in the woods. “Eluréd? Elurín?” 

  
Several beats passed and acknowledged that it must have been his imagination, or maybe a squirrel that had caused the noise.   
  


But then a voice faintly responded. “...Here…”   
  
* * * 

It was the same person he’d seen before- the same flaming red hair glinting in the fading sunlight. Elurín could see his face better now and immediately wanted to look away. He had scars on his face- terrible ones- giving him a frightening visage.   
  
_Half-orc._ The name leapt to his mind from a hazy memory of a conversation overheard. _Half-orc._ Ada was confiding to Nana about a letter. A letter about his Jewel. A letter from someone that he had called a _half-orc._   
This elf certainly looked like one.   
  
Elurín whimpered and covered Eluréd’s sleeping form.   
  
The elf froze, and his eyes turned toward the noise. “Eluréd? Elurín?”   
  
He couldn’t breathe. Terror gripped every fiber of his body; he was afraid of the elf, afraid to lift his voice- he had to be one of the bad ones who’d attacked their home- 

He was cold. Eluréd had fallen unconscious a long time ago. They needed help, and they needed it soon.   
  
“Here…” he called, tears beginning to slip down his face, stinging as they fell.   
  
The elf rushed toward the call. Elurín shrank back, but the elf was already removing his cloak and wrapping them in it. His tears turned into sobs as he clung to the stranger, not caring who he was, if he was half-orc or not, because he was warm, he was safe, he was going to protect them.   
  
He picked them up, carrying them across the snow-blanketed ocean, walking lightly over it.   
“C-c-cold,” Elurín stammered, shivering even in the newfound warmth.   
  
“We’re going to get you in front of a fire soon,” the elf whispered. His voice was rough, not the sort of smooth and gentle voice that he was accustomed to. “And something warm to eat. Dry clothes.”   
  
“El-Eluréd too?”   
“Eluréd too,” he assured him.   
“Is Ada safe?” 

He did not answer that question straight away. “I do not know,” he answered eventually. 

Elurín shivered. “N-Nana and Elw-wing?”   
  
“We will look for them once you are warm, little one.” 

  
“Eluréd.” He shook his twin’s ice-cold shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.   
Eluréd didn’t answer, but Elurín was too tired to care. The dark had come over the forest once more, and he was tired, so tired… and their rescuer had promised safety and warmth…   
They didn’t make it back to the halls before he fell asleep. 

* * *

It was Amrod who greeted them upon their return. Amrod, who had taken the twins from arms and set them in front of the fire. Amrod, whose face twisted when he saw the lighting of the fire scorch their silver hair scarlet. 

  
It was Maglor, though, who told him the news of their brothers. “Tyelko, Moryo, and Curvo. All were killed.”   
  


There were only three of them left now.   
  


“And the twins’ family?”   
  
Maglor seemed surprised at how swiftly he’d transitioned to that question, but answered it nonetheless. “Dior killed Celegorm. Curufin got vengeance. On Nimloth, too. Elwing escaped with the Silmaril.”   
  
He should not be as used to this process as he was.   
  
He gave himself time to mourn in solitude before returning to look after the twins.   
  
Amrod was weeping openly when he came back. 

* * * 

Elurín awoke to find himself in dry clothes, wrapped in a blanket by a roaring hearthside. Images of the day before flashed through his mind- but they didn’t all make sense- he couldn’t remember why he was in the woods in the first place. _Don’t think about that._ His mind whispered, and he agreed, too tired to try. He glanced around and realized that Eluréd was not near him, and he bolted upright, starting to hyperventilate.   
  
“It’s alright, little one,” a voice said gently behind him. He turned around. It was the same red-headed elf that had rescued him yesterday. He was standing at a distance as if he didn’t want to spook the child. 

  
“Who are you?” Elurín whispered. “Where is Eluréd?”

  
The elf’s eyes were impassable. “He is sleeping right now.” He took a step closer, watching Elurín’s reaction carefully before daring to take a second. “My name is Maedhros,” he told him. “And you are Elurín, correct?”   
  
He nodded, and Maedhros knelt next to him by the hearth. “How are you feeling? Warmer, I hope?”   
  
He nodded again. Now that he was so close to Maedhros, his strange visage began to make him afraid once more.   
  
“Good,” he said softly. “My brothers would like to see you if you are open to the company.”   
  
He shook his head. Memories started to stir up in his mind; he was afraid, he knew that- he just couldn’t remember why. He remembered that someone was attacking Doriath, and he and Eluréd and Elwing had run, and- and then Maedhros was there. Had orcs come?   
_Don’t think about that._

“I understand if you would not want our company,” Maedhros continued. “But it may help you to know that my brother Maglor could sing a song of power for you if you needed one. And my brother Amrod is a twin, like you.” 

Elurín fidgeted with his blanket. “Amrod can come,” he said quietly. “Do you know where my Ada and Nana are?”   
  
“No, little one, I do not,” he answered, though his expression was pained as he rose to open the door. “But you are safe here. No harm shall come to you under my protection.”   
  
An elf entered the room after Maedhros gave a word. He was tall, but not nearly as tall as Maedhros was. He had the same red hair, a shade or two darker, and it was curlier than his brother’s. He did not bear the scars Maedhros did.

“Hello, Elurín,” he greeted softly, approaching him slowly. Tentatively. “I am Amrod.”   
  
Elurín stared at him. “Maedhros said you were a twin,” he said quietly.   
  
A strange, twisted expression crossed his face. “Indeed I am,” he responded.   
  
“Where is your twin?”   
  
Amrod knelt beside Elurín. “He is across the sea, now. Or so we pray.”   
  
“Oh.” _Across the sea._ Grandmother and Grandfather were _across the sea_ according to Ada and Nana. “I am sorry,” he whispered. A sudden homesickness for his family seized him at the thought of those words. “I want to see Eluréd,” he said fiercely, though his voice quavered. “How is he feeling?” 

There was a quick exchange. It was subtle, but Elurín noticed it. Amrod met Maedhros’ gaze. And he turned back to the child.   
  
“Eluréd?” he prompted, but fear had taken hold of his heart. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Amrod took Elurín into his arms. 

And that fear became a startling reality. 

Amrod held the child’s head against his shoulder as his world began to crumble before him, as his sobs broke in waves. 

Amrod didn’t offer any condolences. He knew there were none. He knew that nothing would ever make his world whole again; something would always feel like it was missing.   
They were broken; two halves of a whole, never to be fitted together. 

  
“I will take care of you, Elurín,” Amrod promised. “You shall not be alone.” 

Elurín’s only response was the tightening of his grip around Amrod’s shoulder. 

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of more technical details:  
> In this version, Umbarto (It’s Amras in this version; Tolkien liked to change which twin was which) dies at the burning of the ships at Losgar.  
> Beren and Luthien are, in fact, NOT across the sea, but given that a phrase such as that could be a common euphemism for death, it seems plausible that Dior and Nimloth told their children that to put it into context. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to read my fic! Comments are appreciated- I’d love any advice or constructive criticism for my writing.


End file.
